Martha stepped onto the back porch. Cold, damp air sent a shiver rippling through her body. She scanned the yard but saw no one. “Someone had to have thrown that brick; now where did they go?” she muttered.
Taking the steps two at a time and ignoring how cold and wet the ground felt on her bare feet, she sprinted across the yard. Looking around, she listened for any unusual sounds. Nothing was out of the ordinary.
Needing to know if Heidi and her puppies were safe, Martha raced for the barn, her heart pounding like a herd of stampeding horses.
She had almost reached the door when she noticed a straw hat lying on the ground. It didn’t look like any of her father’s hats, and she bent to pick it up, wondering if he might recently have purchased a new one. I’d better take this out to Dad’s shop when I tell him about the brick, but not until I’ve checked on Heidi and her brood.
Martha opened the barn door, lit the lantern hanging from a beam overhead, and peered cautiously around, allowing her breathing and heartbeat to slow. She saw no one and heard nothing but the gentle nicker of the two buggy horses inside their stalls and the cooing of some pigeons in the loft overhead.
She hung the straw hat on a nail near the door and started toward the back of the building, but she’d only taken a few steps, when a mouse darted in front of her. She let out a yelp, screeched to a halt, and drew in a shaky breath as the tiny critter scurried under a bale of straw. I’m okay. It was only a maus. There’s nothing to be nervous about.
With another quick glance around, she rushed over to the box that had become the temporary home for Heidi and her puppies. A feeling of relief washed over her when she discovered that the pups were nursing and Heidi was sleeping peacefully.
“I’ll check on you again after supper,” Martha whispered, patting the top of the dog’s silky head.
She made her way quickly back to the place where she’d lit the lantern, extinguished the flame, and lifted the straw hat from the nail.
Once outside, Martha scoured the yard one more time; then seeing no one in sight, she dashed for her father’s shop.
“You sure have sold a lot of honey lately,” Cleon’s brother Ivan commented, as the two headed home from town in one of their family’s closed-in buggies. After they’d finished helping their father and younger brothers, Willard and Delbert, in the fields earlier that day, the two of them had made some honey deliveries and taken a few orders.
Cleon smiled. “I’m doing real well here of late.”
“Think you’ll ever quit helping Pop on the farm and go out on your own with the honey business?” Ivan’s dark eyes looked full of question as he tipped his head.
“I hope so. Never have liked farming that much. I’ll have to find more customers for my honey than just a few stores in the towns around here and a handful of people from our community, though.”
“Looks to me like you’ve got more customers than just a handful.” Ivan tapped Cleon’s arm. “We delivered twenty quarts of honey this afternoon, and you met with five others who want to become regular customers.”
“I’m glad for that, but it’s still not enough to make a decent living.”
“You’ll be gettin’ married soon, so I can see why you might need some extra cash.”
Cleon nodded. “The wood for the house I’m building on the acreage behind the Hostettlers’ place is costing a lot more than I’d figured, so it’s taking longer than I’d planned.”
“Building materials aren’t cheap anymore, that’s for sure.”
“Nothing’s cheap nowadays.”
“So, what’d Grace want when she came by to see you this morning?” Ivan asked. “I got so busy helping Pop with chores all morning, I forgot to ask.”
Cleon grimaced. “The Hostettlers had a break-in at their house after church last Sunday, but we didn’t hear about it because we left for Montana early the next morning.”
“That’s too bad. Was anything stolen?”
“Not until this morning.”
“They had another break-in this morning?”
“Not at the house, but Roman’s shop got broken into. Grace said whoever did it made a mess of things, and some of her daed’s tools were stolen, too.”
“That’s a shame. You think it could have been done by whoever dumped over those outhouses some weeks ago?”
Cleon shrugged. “Could be, but that was several miles from here.”
“You’ve got a point, but there was some cowtipping done at the bishop’s place awhile back, too.”
“I’m sure that was done by some pranksters.”
“Do you have any idea why someone would want to target Grace’s family like that?”
“Nope. None at all.”
“Well, hopefully, it won’t happen again.”
“Sure hope not. The Hostettlers don’t need this. No one does.”
“Changing the subject,” Ivan said, “you mentioned before that you thought Grace felt nervous about getting married. I was wondering if you’re feeling that way, too.”
“Not really. I love Grace a lot, and I’m sure we’re going to be happy living together as husband and wife.”
“You plannin’ to start a family right away?”
Cleon shrugged. “Kinner will come in God’s time, not ours.”
“Jah, well, I know for a fact that our mamm’s lookin’ forward to bein’ a grossmudder, so she’ll be real happy when you do have some kinner.”
Cleon thumped his brother’s arm. “Maybe you ought to find yourself an aldi and get married, too. That way you can take an active part in giving Mamm a bunch of kinskinner.“
Ivan wrinkled his nose. “I’m in no hurry for that. Besides, women have too many peculiar ideas to suit me.”
Cleon grimaced as a vision of Grace came to mind. She’d been acting kind of peculiar herself lately. He hoped she wasn’t getting cold feet about marrying him. His whole being ached with the desire to make Grace his wife, and he didn’t think he could stand it if she broke things off.
Ivan leaned closer to Cleon. “Say, you’d better watch out for that hilly dip we’re coming to. Last week my friend Enos hit a deer standing in the road.”
“I’ll be careful.” Cleon guided the horse up the hill and started down the other side. They had just reached the bottom of the hill when he spotted a black pickup in his side mirror coming up behind them at a pretty good clip. The driver, wearing a pair of sunglasses and a baseball cap, laid on his horn, and Cleon steered the horse toward the shoulder of the road, glad he had one of their more docile mares today. With no traffic coming in the opposite direction, he figured the truck would have plenty of room to pass. Apparently the driver didn’t think so, because he nearly sideswiped Cleon’s buggy as he whipped around him and raced down the road.
“Whew, that was too close for comfort,” Cleon said, sweat beading on his forehead and rolling onto his cheeks. “I wish people wouldn’t drive so fast on these back country roads.”
“Makes me wonder if that fellow was trying to run us off the road on purpose,” Ivan grumbled.
Cleon gripped the reins a bit tighter and directed the horse back onto the road. “What would make you think that?”
“Last week, Willard and I were heading home from a singing, and a truck nearly sideswiped our open buggy. It was dark out, and we couldn’t see the color or make of the vehicle, but we knew it was a truck.” Ivan’s dark brows drew together in a frown. “Willard was driving, and boy, waar er awwer bees.“
“I can imagine just how angry he was, but it’s not likely that it was the same truck. Whoever was driving wasn’t trying to hit you on purpose any more than that fellow was trying to hit us just now. Some Englishers get in too big of a hurry and drive too fast, that’s all.”
“Humph!” Ivan folded his arms and stared straight ahead. “Some English don’t think we have a right to be on the road with our buggies, and they don’t like the road apples our horses leave, either. It’s almost like they’re singling us out because we’re different.”
Cleon thought again about the break-ins that had occurred at the Hostettlers’ and wondered if they’d been isolated incidents or if the family might have been singled out. He needed to have a talk with Roman as he’d promised Grace he would do.
“Mind if we stop by the Hostettlers’ before we go home?” he asked his brother. “I want to speak with Roman about those break-ins.”
Ivan shrugged. “Makes no never mind to me. Maybe the brothers will do our chores if we don’t get home on time.”
Cleon grunted. “Jah, right. That’s about as likely as a heat wave in the middle of January.”
“It’s past quitting time,” Roman said when Luke returned to the shop after loading some cabinets for Ray Larson, their nearest English neighbor. “You’re free to go whenever you want.”
“You sure about that? We’ve still got several pieces of furniture that need fixing.”
“They can wait until tomorrow. We’ve both put in a long day, and I’m exhausted.”
Luke nodded. “I’m kind of tired myself.”
“Sure was nice of John Peterson to come by this afternoon and loan us some tools,” Roman said as he put a final coat of stain on a straight-backed chair.
“I hope you don’t mind that I mentioned your break-in to John when I went home for lunch and found him visiting my daed.” Luke nodded toward the shelf where the hammer and saw lay that John had dropped by shortly after lunch.
“Why would I mind?”
“I know you don’t want the incident reported to the sheriff, so I figured you might not want anyone else knowing about it, either.”
Roman shrugged. “We live in a small community, and I’ve told some of my Amish neighbors. I’m sure the news would have gotten out soon enough.”
Luke opened his mouth as if to comment, but the shop door opened, and Martha rushed into the room, interrupting their conversation.
“Dad, you’ll never believe what happened a few minutes ago!”
A look of fear covered his daughter’s face. “What is it, Martha? What’s happened?”
“I was in the kitchen getting supper started, and a brick flew right through the window.”
“What?” Roman dropped the rag he’d been using to stain the chair and hurried to her side. “Are you all right? Did the brick hit you?”
“I’m okay. It just shook me up a bit.”
“Did you see who did it?” Luke asked.
Martha shook her head. “I ran outside right away, but whoever threw the brick must have been a fast runner, because no one was in sight.” She lifted the straw hat in her hand. “I went out to the barn to check on Heidi and her pups and found this lying on the ground outside the barn door.”
Luke grabbed hold of the hat. “That’s mine. I must have dropped it as I was putting my horse in the corral when I got here this morning.”
“Are you sure you weren’t wearing it when you went outside to load those cabinets for Ray? Maybe you dropped it then.”
“I’m sure I didn’t have it on.” Luke plunked the hat on his head. “Want me to take a look around the place before I head home? Maybe whoever threw the brick is still lurkin’ about.”
Roman groaned. “I’m guessing the culprit took off like a shot as soon as that brick hit the window.”
“I believe you’re right, Dad.” Martha touched his arm. “I know you won’t press charges, but don’t you think it’s time to notify the sheriff?”
He shook his head. “Psalm 46:1 says, ‘God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.’”
“If someone’s out to get us—and it seems like they are—I’m worried that the next attack could be worse.” Martha’s chin trembled. “If this keeps up, someone’s likely to get hurt.”
The truth of her words sliced through Roman like a knife. The thought of someone in his family getting hurt gave him the chills, but he had to keep believing and trusting that God would protect his family. He was about to say so when his shop door opened again and in walked Cleon and his brother Ivan.
“I see you made it back from Montana,” Roman said. “Did you have a good trip?”
Cleon nodded. “We got back last night.” He glanced around the room and grimaced. “Grace stopped by our place on her way to work and told me about the break-ins that happened at your house last week and then here this morning.”
“Make that three acts of vandalism,” Martha said. “Someone tossed a brick through our kitchen window a short time ago.”
Cleon’s mouth dropped open. “Was anyone hurt?”
Martha shook her head. “Sure scared me, though.”
“Any idea who could have done these things?”
Roman shrugged. “I’m guessing it’s some rowdy fellows—maybe the same ones who dumped over those outhouses near Kidron.”
“I heard a couple of cows got tipped over awhile back in Bishop King’s field,” Ivan put in. “One of the bishop’s sons saw some English fellows running through their land, so he’s pretty sure it was them who pushed the cows over.”
“Dumping outhouses and pushing over cows doesn’t compare to breaking into someone’s home or place of business,” Cleon said. “Makes me wonder if someone has a grudge against you. What do you think, Roman?”
Roman contemplated Cleon’s question a few seconds. He guessed there might be a few people who weren’t too happy with him right now: Luke, because Roman had docked his pay; Steven, because his wife’s birthday present had been ruined; and Bill Collins, because Roman refused to sell his land. Even so, he didn’t think any of them would resort to vandalism. Of course, he didn’t know the land developer personally, so he guessed it might be possible that the determined fellow could resort to scare tactics in order to get Roman to agree to his terms.
“What does the sheriff have to say about all this?” Cleon asked, breaking into Roman’s swirling thoughts.
“Haven’t told him,” Roman muttered, staring at the floor where a blob of stain still lingered.
“How come?” The question came from Ivan this time.
“Saw no need. I wouldn’t press charges even if we knew who’d done it. I’m turning the other cheek and relying on God’s protection, like the Bible says we should.”
Cleon leaned against Roman’s desk. “Has anyone else in the community been bothered?”
“Not that I know of.”
“If we hear that anyone has, what will you do?” Martha asked.
“I’ll get with the others, and we’ll have a talk with our church leaders and see how they think it should be handled.” Roman put his arm around his daughter’s trembling shoulders. “In the meantime, we need to be more watchful while we pray for God’s protection over our friends and family.”